


Narcissus

by wonkisaysomething



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece, Greek Mythology - Freeform, I'm Sorry, M/M, Narcissus - Freeform, hakyeon as narcissus, hakyeon is a heartbreaker, why is that not a tag it should be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 13:32:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18700603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonkisaysomething/pseuds/wonkisaysomething
Summary: And where Narcissus died, a flower grew in his place.





	Narcissus

**Author's Note:**

> wow so  
> w i l d r i d e  
> this is my first time posting to ao3 but not my first time writing  
> so I hope you enjoy ^^  
> also it's not too graphic but it should still be read with caution because I know that some out there could get triggered.

Narcissus called himself ‘N’. It was exotic, mysterious. It created an air of seduction and brought to him many admirers and followers, seeking to claim his heart for their own. He rejected every single one of his admirers’ profession of love, feeling them not worthy of his attention. N recalled a few of them, however.

 

Sanghyuk, the young beauty who had traveled far to meet the one whom he was so infatuated with. He himself had captured the hearts of many men and women, though he had not amassed the vast number of admirers that N had. He was but a bright-eyed, naive lamb, solely interested in meeting his love. Upon arriving on the man’s doorstep, he had been cast out, told that he was not wanted there. Unable to handle the rejection, he threw himself from a balcony, dying on impact.

 

Hongbin, the philosopher who had heard of the mysterious ‘N’ and became intrigued, the one who searched far and wide for answers to questions that could never be solved. He, too, fell prey to N’s beauty and glamour, entranced by the world that N showed him. And he, too, was harshly rejected by the exquisite N. Maddened with grief, his heart ached and shattered into a thousand pieces. Later that night, he traveled to the nearby inn he was staying at, and slit his throat, the blood dripping slowly down, his blank, glassy stare that would never see the light of day again.

 

Wonshik, the devilishly handsome rogue, who lived off the land, braving through the dangers that the rest quaked in fear at. “Might I trouble you for some water, sir?” That was the first time he had heard that breathy, alluring voice, the man looking up through batted eyelashes. The one who had told himself that he would never let himself become a slave to the thing called ‘love’ was now bewitched, bound to the one called ‘N’. But he did not win the man’s heart, though the other had certainly won his. Enraged but heartbroken, he poisoned his ale, dying slowly and painfully, pitiful cries heard through the night.

 

Jaehwan, the flutist who was famous throughout Greece, not only for his playing but for his lovely voice, which many a young girl envied. It had been said that there was not a man nor woman whose heart he could not charm his way into. Eager to take up the challenge of making N’s heart his, he found himself sadly disappointed- As there was one, just one, heart that he could not have. Alas, the tortured young man could not have it this way, could not have himself be anything less than perfect- So he took the only way out that he could think of, and he drowned himself in the Aliakmonas, his pain finally ending.

 

Taekwoon, the man who admired him from afar but never got too close. The one who looked, but didn’t touch. N’s childhood friend, the one who stuck with him through the good and the bad until N’s heart went cold and he could no longer stay by the man he loved. So he watched and he waited, as N rejected each and every one of his admirers, and he wondered if he would end up just like them, cast out in the cold. But he had to reach out and take the leap at some point, and so he did. And he fell, tears streaming down his face like rain in a storm. And so he could not have this, no. He could not see the young man like this any longer, and so he hanged himself on N’s doorstep, finally free of the sadness.

 

The gods saw this, and they were terribly angry with Narcissus. So they cursed the man as he was preening and admiring his reflection in a pond. He fell in love with himself, with his own reflection. But he could not have what he desired, could not have what he so longed to. And he cried, a guttural sound that sounded animalistic. He screamed and he sobbed, for he could not have what he yearned for! He could not be with his love! Finally, the noise subsided, and he disappeared, leaving only a yellow flower in his wake.

 

 

 

A girl came along, bright and happy. And she stopped. “What a pretty flower. I think I shall take it.” She bent down, plucking it from the sweet smelling grass. And the flower wilted, its beauty finally gone.


End file.
